Walk with me through a year of days: past the seasons, racked and in colour order. Fabrics from silk to hessian, from linen to barbed wire… neatly folded and put away. See how we wore it all, you and I, on this crazy limping catwalk, with sun and stars as our audience.
We felt intimately the itch, the flow, the grip of every garment flung down before us. Even now I know I am bombarded. Yet I stand with you, glad that this wearisome line of pompous relics is nearly at an end. But even gladder that side by side, when the fit was bad or the material uncomfortable, we could laugh. A year of fluff and neon leopard skin that we can burn behind us if we want to.
We’ll just hold tight as we zoom on into the next aisle, last year’s smoke adrift on the air, satisfyingly faint. I can’t wait.
“Use the line
“I am bombarded yet I stand.” From Adrienne Rich, “Planetarium”
in a piece of prose of 144 words or less”
Out of the Cave 
Beautiful bombardment, and its hopeful tone lifts my spirits. Much enjoyed.
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Many thanks!
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Beautiful imagery here, and I too love the hopeful tone of this piece!
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THanks, Ingrid. ❤
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Wonderful writing.
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THanks, Hobbo! 🙂
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You’re welcome!
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This is wonderful. Truly.
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Many thanks!
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I enjoyed the imagery and metaphors in this so much! Hopefully we can slip into something more comfortable in the next year, but thankful we can laugh when it’s “fluff and leopard skin” we find ourselves sporting! 💗
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Thanks, Tricia. So glad you liked it. 😃
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